’ She released the pistol which lay in her lap and gestured expressively with her hands. He did not like it, he said, with a significant look, to be reminded of either his books or his dinners after he had done with them. She was trying to bring her problems to a head, and her mind insisted upon being even more discursive and atmospheric than usual. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket. He grabbed her legs and threw the covers from the bed. He stood transfixed. It had showed up at an auction at Sotheby’s after someone had sold it. He drew her close up to him with a strong, steady pull.
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